


Picking Up Crumbs

by Lady_Vibeke



Series: Aliit Ori'shya Tal'din (A Family Made of Love) [1]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Cute Kids, F/M, Falling In Love, Family Feels, Friends to Co-Parents to Lovers, Gen, Idiots in Love, Parenthood, Slow Burn, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:27:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26633599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Vibeke/pseuds/Lady_Vibeke
Summary: “How can we help her?” asked Din. “She's been crying almost incessantly since we found her.”The doctor blinked, eyebrows knitting up. “She's not crying now.”“She stops when Cara holds her. Perhaps she reminds her of her mother?”Cara groaned inwardly. Having lady parts wasn't enough to make you a mother, but how could that be explained to a baby? The doctor was a woman, too, and there were plenty of other women out there, it wouldn't be that hard to find this child a family, would it? Cara wasn't comfortable holding something so soft and fragile and couldn't wait to switch back to her sturdy rifle.Doctor Manhan, however, was still watching her and the baby with unmistakable scientific interest.“Fascinating.”“What?” Cara asked impatiently. She didn't like the way the woman was staring at her.Doctor Manhan's lips spread into a smile as her eyes flickered from Cara to Din and back in a way Cara didn't like.At all.“Are you familiar with the phenomenon ofimprinting?”[ In which our favourite Space Idiots™ work together, live together, fall in love, become a couple, make things official, and adopt children... not exactly in this order. ]
Relationships: Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Din Djarin & Cara Dune, Cara Dune & Original Character(s), Cara Dune/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Din Djarin & Cara Dune, Din Djarin & Original Character(s)
Series: Aliit Ori'shya Tal'din (A Family Made of Love) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2121000
Comments: 80
Kudos: 199





	1. Out of the Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Remember me? I'm not dead, apparently! It's been a rather dull period for me, getting home so tired I couldn't even get to my laptop. Hopefully things will be looking up now that the crazy summer has passed.
> 
> I've been working on this story for a couple of weeks and wasn't planning to make it so long, but I quickly realised it was getting too wordy to be a oneshot (yes, yes, YOU TOLD ME, you know who you are, you nasty piece of jelly!) so it's split in two parts to make it more readable.
> 
> Warning: there are heavy baby feels in this fic, grab a good toothbrush, a dose of insuline, and get ready.
> 
> PSA: to spare you all a quick google search, this is what a Pantoran looks like:

“Forgive me, I'm not sure I'm following. You found this baby _where?”_

Cara exchanged an edgy look with Din, which he returned with a slight tip of his helmet she recognised as an unspoken sigh. She had hoped that once they found a doctor they would just leave the little blue thing in their hands and take off, never to look back, but here they were, trying to explain to the puzzled woman how their latest job had turned into an unlikely baby rescue.

“She was kept in a bag in our target's den,” Din explained calmly, probably sensing Cara's growing nervousness.

“We're bounty hunters,” Cara added harshly when she noticed the doctor's eyebrows arch. She received a small grin in return, accompanied by an eloquent once-over.

“That I could tell.”

The little girl squirmed in the crook of Cara's elbow. _'Please, don't start crying again,'_ she prayed, bouncing her lightly. All this kid seemed to be able to do was cry her lungs out _all the damn time._ She'd been crying when they'd found her, she kept crying all the way here, and she had cried non stop while the doctor had examined her. They'd had her for less than twenty four hours and Cara already had a sickening headache. They had no idea what their target, a high-profile smuggler, had been planning to do with a newborn Pantoran child, and they would never know because the guy was dead, safely stored in his carbonite slab on the Razor Crest. It was a good bounty, but before they could go and claim their money they needed to find someone to take the baby.

“All she had on herself was this blanket,” Din said, producing the half burnt lilac plaid the baby had been wrapped into when Cara had pulled her out of the bag their guy used as a crib. It had taken three sponge baths and a lot of water to wash the ash dust and the smoke stench off the girl's delicate skin. She was impossibly small and still had a little brownish stump hanging from her belly. Cara had no idea how she was still alive after everything she must have gone through.

“We were wondering if you could help us find her family.”

The woman—Raj Manhan, according to the tag on her coat—took a couple of minutes to punch a few keywords on her datapad, then shook her head.

“No one has reported a missing Pantoran baby in the last few months,” she informed them. She gave the little girl a long look, followed by a weary sigh. “I doubt we'd be able to track her back to her family. Pantorans are an attractive people, their children are often kidnapped or sold to be pleasure slaves. This one is barely a couple of days old, she was taken from her mother too soon.”

Cara flashed her a sour frown. “Is there a recommended time to kidnap infants from their mothers' arms?”

Din's boot nudged her ankle warningly. Doctor Manhan elegantly ignored the jab; she took off her glasses, crossed her arms over her desk and gave Cara and Din a solemn look.

“The bond between Pantoran mothers and their newborns is unique, and deeper than humans can imagine,” she explained. “It's like an emotional umbilical cord: if it's severed too soon, the baby's development will be compromised, likely resulting in a slow, painful death.”

So that was why this kid seemed to be constantly in pain.

Cara glanced down at her: she was fussing meekly, face buried in the coarse fabric of Cara's shirt, her minuscule fingers tugging at it as though she wanted to tear it apart. Cara thought of Snuggles and how he was always whining to get close to the blue baby to try to heal whatever was making her so desperate. No wonder his sweet intentions barely made any difference: this kiddo needed a mother she probably would never see again.

“How can we help her?” asked Din. “She's been crying almost incessantly since we found her.”

The doctor blinked, eyebrows knitting up. “She's not crying now.”

“She stops when Cara holds her. Perhaps she reminds her of her mother?”

Cara groaned inwardly. Having lady parts wasn't enough to make you a mother, but how could that be explained to a baby? The doctor was a woman, too, and there were plenty of other women out there, it wouldn't be that hard to find this child a family, would it? Cara wasn't comfortable holding something so soft and fragile and couldn't wait to switch back to her sturdy rifle.

Doctor Manhan, however, was still watching her and the baby with unmistakable scientific interest.

“Fascinating.”

“What?” Cara asked impatiently. She didn't like the way the woman was staring at her.

Doctor Manhan's lips spread into a smile as her eyes flickered from Cara to Din and back in a way Cara didn't like. _At all._

“Are you familiar with the phenomenon of _imprinting?”_

  
  


*

  
  


The blue baby was crying. _Again._

Din was patting her back and bouncing her gently upon his shoulder, but this wasn't going to do much: the baby needed— _physically needed_ —to be close to Cara. Unfortunately, Cara couldn't even look at her without panicking, right now. She was pacing back and forth in the common area of the Crest like a feral beast trapped in a cage, Din right behind her, trying to talk her out of her anxiety. It wasn't working very well, given how the very source of Cara's anxiety was wailing madly in his arms.

“So that's all on me?” she snapped, struggling to breathe normally. “I have to decide if this kid lives or dies?”

Snuggles was watching from his pram, ears shyly peeking up above the edge. Cara caught a glimpse of dismay in his big eyes before turning away. Her chest felt too tight to breathe. She needed fresh air. She needed—

“It would be only for a few weeks,” Din reasoned, a hand resting over the baby's head to shield her from his raising voice.

Cara was barely listening. This was madness. As if their life wasn't crazy enough, hunting across the galaxy with a fuzzy green bean with incredible powers. Last thing they needed was a helpless creature to look after.

She stopped abruptly and whipped around, holding out a hand to stop Din from getting any closer. She just wanted this noise to cease hammering in her head.

“Look, this is your ship,” she said through clenched teeth, “and you can take in all the foundlings you like. Just don't ask _me_ to play mom.”

Din froze in the middle of talking a tentative step in her direction. Even through his helmet, Cara could tell he was hurt.

“Is that what you're doing with Nugget? You just _put up_ with him because of me?”

Cara's eyes darted toward the green kid, whose ears had perked up at the mention of his nickname—one of the many—and her heart shrunk. Of course she wasn't just _putting up_ with him; she genuinely cared about that brat, and that was already one child too many she had inadvertently found herself emotionally involved with.

“You know that is not what I meant.”

No matter how she tried not to look, she could see how Din was already attached to the little girl. It put Cara in a very unpleasant position, because what she did or didn't want mattered less and less by the minute: the baby needed her, and Din's soft heart was already open wide for this cute new foundling.

“I'll take care of her,” he promised, “take care of everything. You just have to do what the doctor said. When the time comes, we'll bring her back and she'll find her a family.”

Cara knew it would never happen, that, when the time came, Din would never be able to give up the squalling bundle curled upon his shoulder, but she couldn't think about that now, or she would never be able to make herself do what she was about to do.

Without a word, she walked to Din and grudgingly held her arms out. She thought she heard a _'Thank you'_ being whispered through the desperate crying, but she couldn't put her finger on it. As soon as her hands touched the little girl, the crying stopped. Sighing, Cara let Din help her adjust the infant in her arms, and a part of her basked in the relief of the sudden silence, while another part of her, way larger, reminded her of the terrified thump of her heart against her ribcage.

_'Hold her as close as possible as long as possible,' Doctor Manhan had instructed. “Let her feel your heartbeat. She needs to feel safe and protected.'_

She inhaled deeply and decided to concentrate on the blissful silence. This was all she had to do: share her personal space, offer some body warmth. In a few weeks, it would be over.

As the baby settled against her chest, finally placated, Cara gazed up at Din, finding him focused on the little one's fists opening and closing into Cara's shirt. This was when she realised his hands were still cupped around her elbows. When he looked up and met her eyes, his grip on her tightened imperceptibly. She didn't know how a face she couldn't even see could break past her defences so effortlessly.

There was an embroidery in a corner of the baby's blanket, it was very noticeable now that the blanket was clean. Cara smoothed it down over the girl's side.

“Koha,” she read. “That's Pantoran for _gift.”_ Her eyes sought Din's. “Somebody loved this little one very much.”

Din let out a soft breath that sounded like a smile; his hands slip up Cara's arms, leaving a wake up pleasant warmth.

“Is it a change of heart I'm sensing?”

Cara sighed. Her fingers absently brushed over the impalpable tuft of silvery white hair on the baby's head, and she was rewarded with a feeble, content sound that did funny things to her heart.

She sighed again. There was no way this could end well for any of them.

“I know I'm gonna regret this.”

  
  


*

  
  


It took them a couple of days and as many sleepless nights to figure out Koha didn't simply need Cara's proximity to be fine.

It was still dark outside and the baby had been screaming herself hoarse for the better part of the last couple of hours. It was a miracle Snuggles was sleeping through all this mayhem. Cara and Din were both up and getting quite desperate.

“How do we turn her off?” Cara wondered, lids heavy with sleep, fighting yet another yawn.

Din, who was propped against the wall with a shoulder, probably about to doze off, shook his head powerlessly.

“She must be hungry,” he guessed, though they'd just given her a whole bottle just two hours ago. “I can try to warm up some milk.”

They moved to the galley and Cara sat down as Din started hustling around the stove. She couldn't stifle a small impish grin watching him, ironically half naked but with his helmet in place, bumping awkwardly into things, sluggish from the lack of sleep.

Still grinning, Cara sank back into the bench and let her head fall back against the wall, Koha's little feet kicking the air angrily.

Cara moaned, “How can something so tiny produce such a deafening noise? She sounds like somebody's skinning her alive.”

“Check if she's wet,” suggested Din without even turning back from the difficult task of sticking the rubber nipple on top of the milk bottle. Every time he failed, he cursed in Mando'a under his breath. Cara would have loved to make fun of him, but she was too exhausted to even tease.

“She's not wet, you changed her just five minutes ago!”

They often ended up arguing when they were both physically drained by sleeplessness. It nornally happened during or after jobs; now it was happening on a daily basis. They didn't like arguing, though, so Cara shut her big mouth and Din did his best to be supportive.

“The milk is almost ready.”

Getting the baby bottle anywhere near Koha's mouth was a struggle. Her stubborn fists kept pushing it way in the heat of her restless and very vocal complaining; by the time Cara got to stick the rubber nipple into the newborn's mouth, the milk was barely lukewarm and apparently not particularly appetising. After half of the milk ended up all over the baby's romper and the other half on Cara's formerly clean night shirt, Cara determined it was a lost cause.

“I guess she's not hungry.”

Din handed her a towel to dry herself and the baby up. “Maybe she's cold.”

Cara scoffed. _Cold._ Despite the open ramp letting in some cool air, it was so hot in here they might was well be on Mustafar.

“If a cocoon of bantha wool can't keep her warm, the next best option is fire!”

“The doctor said she needs constant contact with her mother,” said Din in a very careful tone. “Perhaps there are too many barriers between you and her.”

Cara narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you saying I should strip?”

“I'm saying she might need to feel the warmth of your skin.”

At this point Cara was willing to do pretty much anything to get the screaming to stop, so she caved in. Without much preamble, she thrust the baby into Din's arms, got rid of her soaked shirt, then pulled the baby out of the blanket and settled her over her bare shoulder. It did the trick almost at once: Cara felt the baby's damp cheek rub against her skin as her wailing faded into adorable muffled mumbles.

“So that's it?” she half laughed in utter disbelief. “This was all you wanted? Why didn't you just say so?”

Din released a quiet laugh of relief as he reached out to stroke the baby's back.

“I think she was trying.”

Somehow, Cara felt he was looking at her. She suddenly felt very self-conscious, sitting in her underwear with this little creature drooling on her neck, but Din's silence was so wistful and comfortable it eventually infected her and washed the tension out of her body.

“You're a spoiled blue bean, you know?” she whispered against Koha's back.

Din's fingers accidentally brushed under Cara's chin as they pulled away; he didn't seem to notice.

“Want a cup of caf?” he offered.

Cara closed her eyes with an ecstatic moan. She could kill for some caf right now.

“Thanks, that would be amazing.”

They ended up sitting side by side, slack and boneless, on the bench facing the open ramp and the desert landscape spreading beyond it. Little by little, the suns of Tatooine started climbing up the horizon, painting the sand in gold. In spite of the tiredness and every inch in her body begging for rest, Cara found herself smiling.

“Well, this is a pretty damn gorgeous sunrise.”

“Yeah,” Din agreed. “We've never stopped to watch a sunrise before.”

They hadn't, and they'd been missing out: Cara had forgotten how beautiful and breathtaking a sunrise could be.

“We should do this more often,” she mused.

Din turned in her direction. “We should,” he muttered, then his helmet angled downward. “Is she asleep?”

Koha was sprawled upon Cara's chest like a little frog, knees spread and bent at her sides. Her breathing was slow and even, finally peaceful.

“Yep. Out like a rock,” she confirmed. In that exact moment a couple of fuzzy green ears popped up at Din's side. “And here we have a jealous early bird,” Cara giggled while Snuggles climbed his way to Din's lap and there he plopped down, glancing up at Din with a satisfied grin.

“I guess we won't be getting up any time soon,” Din commented. Cara didn't miss the fondness warming his voice.

“We could just close our eyes for a couple of minutes,” she suggested, but never got a reply: both Din and Snuggles were already snoring.

This was their life, now? From fierce bounty hunters to children pillows? How the mighty had fallen.

  
  


*

  
  


There was an intricate method to adjust the sling to carry the baby that Cara had simply refused to learn. It was Din who took care of that and who carefully wrapped Cara up in the morning and helped her tuck Koha safely into the fabric folds. This meant Cara couldn't put on her armour for the time being, and that made her feel annoyingly vulnerable. It didn't help that carrying a baby like this attracted all sorts of dopey looks from people, not to mention Din's silent mirth.

At some point Cara had grown so irritated to be the only one looking like a fool that she had demanded that Din wore Snuggles the same way she wore Koha, and she had been unspeakably irked by how unflinchingly he had accepted. So now there were two of them: two idiots being followed by stupid smiles and a wake of _'Aww!'_ and _'So cute!'_ that nearly made Cara reach for her blaster every damn time. It irked her even more that Din didn't seem half a bothered as she was.

“Who even _invented_ baby wearing?” she whined while they walked through Theed's busy streets. “It's impractical. I can't even punch anyone, like this.”

Din's mood was particularly good today and none of Cara's grumpiness seemed to touch him.

“Today's schedule doesn't involve any punching,” he reminded her, “let's try to keep it that way.”

Snuggles was happily ensconced in his own carrier, strapped to Din's torso so that he could face forward and enjoy the exciting view of the city. He was munching on a wooden frog toy they'd just bought him and at this rate there wouldn't be much left of the poor frog by the end of the trip. Midday was approaching, meaning the two kids would soon starts asking for food. Actually, Koha already was, Cara realised, sensing the wet patch she had started sucking on her shirt.

Cara slid her pinky into the baby's mouth, trying to distract her by offering an alternative option to suckle on, and groaned at the mess that was her shirt, “Ugh, she's drooled all over me again.”

“She must be hungry,” Din noted matter-of-factly. “Let's find her some fresh milk. And some meat for this one,” he added, gently prying the wooden frog out of Snuggles's mouth. Snuggles let out a shrill noise of protest and stubbornly stuck the toy back into his mouth, only to have it removed again by Din's firm intervention.

Cara giggled. “Let's get food before he devours his brand new present.”

A cool breeze started blowing on their way to the main square. Not long after, Koha started fussing; Cara's finger wasn't tricking her any more.

“You should put on another couple of layers,” Din warned her.

Cara, who was more than properly covered, dismissed that with a scoff.

“I'm fine.”

“Take my cloak.”

“Din, what the— It's not that cold!” she exclaimed, but quickly realised it wasn't _her_ he was worried about. He was looking at Koha.

“She's still weak,” he said. “We can't let her get sick.”

Cara's arm instinctively tightened around the baby. It was happening: she could see it every day, in every word and every gesture Din spoke or made. He was falling in love with the blue little girl, as Cara knew it would happen, and there was nothing she could do to prevent that.

She bit her lip and took a pitiful look at him, still gallantly holding up his cloak for her to take. The air _was_ getting chilly, after all...

“Give me that stupid thing,” she snapped, snatching the cloak from his hand to awkwardly wrap it around her shoulders with her free arm. “There. Happy, now?”

Din fixed the cloak so that it fell more evenly around her and the baby, then nodded, satisfied.

“Yes.”

The heat spreading through Cara's body didn't come from the extra garment shielding her from the wind, but from the tender sentiment she had sensed in Din's voice. It was for Koha, of course, but it still caused a flutter of butterflies in Cara's stomach.

Ignoring the fact that her cheeks were flushing, she peered under the cloak and into the wrap with an amused smirk.

“You still breathing under there, kiddo?”

She could basically feel Din roll his eyes as the baby hummed softly.

“She says she's not completely asphyxiated,” Cara chuckled at him, “you might want to give me one more layer to smother her with.”

“Very funny,” Din deadpanned, but his voice was overpowered by Snuggles's loud giggle.

“What you laughing at?” Cara asked him. “You don't even understand what we're saying.”

The kid replied with another overenthusiastic giggle that made Cara tumble and burst into a giggle herself. The kid loved playing silly and make her and Din laugh, as much as they loved making him laugh.

Cara would never admit that, but it made her feel good to know she was making these children's life better just by being there for them. Both she and Din had lost everything, lost their families, and as little as it might seem, giving these kids a safe haven and a happy life gave them a purpose they hadn't known they needed.

“You hungry?”

A touch in her side—Din's elbow—jolted her back to reality. He was walking close to her, looking ahead intently like he always did when he was looking at her but didn't want her to know.

“I can feed Bluebelle while you and Nugget eat.”

They would never reach an agreement over the green kid's name—Nuggie was the compromise they had reached between Cara's Snuggles and Din's Nugget—but they had both been calling Koha _Bluebelle_ for a while, and neither seemed to remember who started or where it came from, but it was pretty and fitting, if a bit too personal. Giving the baby Pantoran a nickname of their own making wasn't going to make things any easier when the post-natal emotional bond with Cara eventually wore off.

“Deal,” she said, even if her mind was somewhere else. “And then we can find somewhere private where you can eat.”

Koha's featherweight on her chest suddenly felt like a crushing burden, the delicate scent of her silky skin sweet and yet painful to take in. She looked down and met the baby's dark eyes scrutinising her attentively. Shard of gold had started surfacing in the black irises and one day, when the gold took over, they'd know she was ready to part from Cara.

Lately, that was something Cara hadn't been thinking about as eagerly as she had in the beginning.

  
  


*

Except for the running shower, a perfect silence filled the Crest. Cara was sitting outside on the cool grass, Bluebelle tucked into her arm, slumbering, and Snuggles a few feet from them, plucking orange petals from the flower he had just picked up. When he was done, he wobbled to Cara showing off a bare stem like a trophy.

“Good job, Nuggie,” she grinned, accepting the arguable but still touching gift. “Hey,” she warned when Snuggles climbed onto her lap to try to sneak a peek at the baby. “She's sleeping. Be quiet, okay?”

Slowly, she lowered Koha so that he could see her better. Her minuscule purple lips were slightly parted; from time to time she would let out one of those faint throaty sounds she always made when she was sleeping or taking her milk. Snuggles reached out with one of his chubby hands toward her face; before he could touch her, Cara grabbed his wrist and carefully guided him.

“Gentle,” she whispered. “She's very soft, see?” She let his hand brush down her cheek and Snuggles giggled when the baby stirred under his caress. “You need to be as soft as she is. Like that, good.”

Koha yawned widely, her face scrunching adorably all over. Snuggles watched in fascination, apparently very curious about her lack of teeth. He tried to stick a stubby finger into her mouth while it closed. Cara stopped him just in time.

“That wouldn't be nice, buddy. She's not a toy, okay?”

Snuggles accepted the reproach without any fuss. He broke into noisy yawn of his own, then resumed his baby watching even more intently. Cara could tell by how he kept looking back and forth from Koha to her that the blue skin puzzled him. He looked at his own hands, too, then went back to observing Koha's tiny fingers curled into tight fists around handfuls of Cara's shirt and his obvious bewilderment increased.

“That's okay,” Cara reassured him. “We all look a bit different, but it doesn't matter, right?”

Snuggles seemed to ponder her observation, then, after tilting his head pensively and stalling for a moment, leaned forward and hugged little Koha with his whole body.

Cara's heart swelled. Struggling to fight a surge of emotion gathering at the corners of her eyes, she stroked the kid's head and smiled back when he turned his face upon the baby's belly to smile up at her.

“Yeah, she's kinda cute,” she said, voice breaking a little. She laughed to conceal a sniff. “Don't tell your dad I said that.”

“I heard that,” said a voice above them. Din was out of the shower, looking comfortable and relaxed in his sparring clothes.

Cara feigned a glare. “You sneaky bastard. Were you lurking there waiting for me to put my foot in my mouth?”

A soft breath came through his modulator. “I was just thinking how lovely the three of you look.”

“Don't even go there,” she huffed as he walked down the ramp to join them. “Since you're here, I have a right to ten luxurious minutes all by myself.” She got up in one fluid movement and placed both children in his arms one by one.

“But—”

“I haven't showered in two days, man,” she stressed with a playful tap on the cheek of his helmet. “Ten minutes. If she wakes up, you can change her.”

In the fresher, Cara had to focus to strip out of her clothes. She had been finding it harder and harder to detach herself from Koha, to a point that her own body felt like it was tearing itself apart to get back to her. This couldn't be normal. She had a suspicion that the bond tying her to the child had somehow become mutual, which meant it was going to sever, sooner or later, but also that until then she would always be feeling incomplete whenever Koha wasn't with her.

She stepped into the shower and washed herself quickly, attempting to scrub away the sense of discomfort along with the dirt and the sweat. It didn't work. She had just started rubbing the soap bar over her head, when she heard a knock on the door.

“Cara? Are you done?”

It wasn't just Din's voice that came through the running water, but also not one, but two loud cries.

“Washing my hair!”

“Bluebelle won't stop crying, and Nugget just started crying, too!”

“What? I can't hear you over all this wailing!”

“That's not funny!”

Cara snickered to herself. Din was great at taking care of the kids, but he hated feeling impotent in front of their tears and his endurance in these cases was close to inexistent.

“Just open the door!” she yelled.

There was a pause of awkward silence.

“What?”

“Open the door!” she repeated, turning the water off. “I'll talk to her, maybe it helps her calm down.”

A moment later, the lock hissed and the door slid open.

“I won't look, I promise,” Din said, stepping inside with both children balanced between his arms, helmet staring at the ground. He turned so that he was giving his back to her.

“You can look all you want, for all I care,” she laughed. She stuck her head out of the shower and waved at the children, whose heads were propped each on one of Din's shoulders. “Hey, you two? Can you shut the hell up and let me shower in peace?”

Despite the questionable choice of words, her tone had been friendly and obtained the desired effect: Koha's crying faltered at the sound of Cara's voice.

“That's not what I was expecting but it's working,” she heard Din comment, his hand patting the baby's bottom soothingly. Funny things happened in Cara's chest whenever he let this tender side of his come out so unguardedly.

“See?” she smirked, purposely ignoring the nameless longing curling in her heart like paper in the fire. “I'm a killer mama.”

She saw Din's shoulders shake with a quiet laugh.

“Please, stop.”

“If I stop she'll start crying again.”

Din sighed. “Could you at least say something suitable for children's ears?”

Cara pretended to consider that.

“Have I ever told you about that one time I got really drunk and nearly married a Mirialan princess?”

Din stalled then, in a tone that suggested he already knew what the answer probably was, asked, “You sure that's kid-safe?”

“... most of it.”

Din sighed again, this time more dramatically; not receiving any further objections, Cara started her tale.

“It all began with this gorgeous girl challenging me to a face off...”

Din started swaying from side to side as the kids feel quiet to listen. By the end of the story, Cara had a towel wrapped around herself and both children were fast asleep on Din. She walked up behind him and lovingly swiped a finger down Koha's and Snuggle's noses.

“Mission accomplished, partner,” she murmured in Din's ear.

She didn't know where the peck she brushed on the side of his helmet came from.

He didn't ask and she didn't linger.

  
  



	2. Caught in the Tide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feelings, feelings everywhere. They're contagious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you thought this story was initially in 2 parts, you're absolutely wrong. It was totally always meant to be 3 parts, I swear. It definitely didn't get longer and longer as I wrote, believe me. 😶

Cara was bolted awake by a sudden awareness of _emptiness._

She opened her eyes to the darkness of her bunk, breath short and heavy. She was soaked in cold sweat. She sat up, heart pounding in her throat, fighting against the spiral of panic curling painfully around her stomach, and tried to force herself to find some grounding. She took a deep breath, spread her fingers over the coarse crumpled sheets and across the hard mattress... and realised what felt so wrong.

She rushed out of bed, barefoot and barely clothed, the tightening spiral around her stomach making her sick, causing her hands to tremble. The small hallway was dark, too, but the dim night lights outlined a silhouette Cara recognised at once: Din was standing just a few feet from her, arms wrapped around his chest, upon which the very cause of Cara's panic lay quietly.

“Hey,” he said as soon as he noticed her presence. He sounded slightly apologetic, as though he could sense her state of anxiety. “She was fussing,” he added quickly, “I didn't want her to wake you up, you needed—”

Instinct was pulling at Cara's limbs like she was a helpless puppet on strings: she wanted to raise her arms and take the baby from Din, hold her close to feel the reassuring weight of her curled upon her heart. She had to blink—several times—to focus enough to restrain this treacherous instinct and regain a semblance of composure. She didn't want Din to think she was paranoid.

“Is she okay?”

Din approached, bouncing Koha gently. Cara could hear her sleepy humming as he moved. It made her smile.

“She's fine,” he murmured, then apologised, “I didn't mean to scare you. You haven't had a whole night of sleep in days, I just wanted you to rest.”

Of course he did. Sometimes Cara had a feeling he thought it was all his fault she had a little blue leech attached to her person at all times, feeding off her energy and scarce patience. It was thoughtful of him, though, to make sure she got enough rest, even at his own expense. But Din, whether he realised this or not, was a natural with children, and seeing him like this made Cara want things she had never even thought about before.

“It's fine,” she said with a dismissive shake of her head. She took a step closer and carefully cupped her hand around Koha's head. The contact made the baby squirm and sigh softly, causing Din and Cara to break into a breathless smile.

Din's helmet tilted imperceptibly. Cara could almost feel his gaze upon the goosebumps all over her arms. He touched her shoulder, thumb stroking her back and forth soothingly, as though he knew she needed to be comforted.

He whispered, “Go back to sleep. I've got this.”

Cara couldn't bring herself to argue in front the earnest concern in his tone. Din Djarin was a fierce warrior who could bring people to their knees with a faceless glare, but Cara had quickly learned that his most powerful weapon was his kindness.

It took her a lot of willpower to give in to his request and step away from the bewitching picture of him and Koha huddled together like that. There was something about this man holding babies that never failed to stir a disturbing longing deep into Cara's soul.

“Wake me up if she gets restless,” she said with one last caress over Koha's soft hair.

Din let his hand slip away from her shoulder and for a moment Cara shivered at the sudden loss of warmth.

“I will,” he promised. Cara nodded and reluctantly returned to her bunk.

She fell asleep to the lull of Din's voice whispering sweet, unintelligible things to little Koha.

  
  


*

Mornings had turned into a swirling mess, but Cara had to admit she didn't mind the change as much as she let on. The table was scattered with half eaten food run cold, spilled caf cups, and random toys to keep Snuggles busy and make him forget to be unnecessarily jealous of Koha. He got plenty of attention himself, but what Koha had, he wanted, even if it was stuff he would normally disdain, such as milk.

Cara was feeding Koha her morning bottle while Din, with Snuggles on his lap, was doing his very best to prevent the kid from spilling all the milk while stubbornly trying to drink it on his own. By the end of this breakfast both he and Din were going to need a bath.

Later, when they touched down on the closest planet to resupply the pantry, Din still had a three-fingered fruit pudding print just next to his visor and Cara was pretty sure there were at least a couple of blumfruits down her shirt, courtesy of a certain green kid and a pretty bad temper tantrum. On the other had, both children were well fed and blissfully drowsy from it.

In over one year travelling together, Cara couldn't remember a time she and Din had ever really paid much attention to the places they visited, unless the job required it; now, with two kids forcing them to slow things down, they could afford the luxury of taking their time to pick the best produce, find the best bargain, or simply just lazy around and enjoy a sunny day.

Din was a couple of stalls ahead of Cara, Snuggles happily tucked in a satchel at his side. The little brat had crawled into it while they were about to leave the Razor Crest and had refused to get out. He had a new favourite mean of transportation, apparently.

“They were out of bantha milk,” Din announced when she reached him. He had just finished stuffing his purchases in to Snuggles's empty pram. “I had to go for blue milk.”

Cara curled a corner of her mouth into a half smirk. “Blue milk for a blue baby...” she mused, glancing down a Koha, who was sleeping soundly, her little face pressed into Cara's chest. “What if we fed you pink milk? Would you turn purple?”

She heard a low laugh from Din. “I'm pretty sure that's not how it works.”

“You don't say?” she grinned as they resumed walking. Cara could feel Din's attention weighing on her; she was aware she looked less than good with those grey shades under her eyes.

“Are you tired?” he asked her after a while. Well, it took him longer than anticipated.

“I'm okay,” she huffed. “She's just sucking all the energy out of me like a cute little parasite.”

She hadn't meant to sound so delighted. It kind of ruined the whole purpose of complaining, didn't it?

It was like Cara could hear Din's thoughts through his wistful silence. She was sure he hadn't missed her tone nor the fondness in her eyes. She glanced down at Snuggles and caught him watching her intently. She bet this little shit could see right through her.

“She's so being quiet...” Din muttered. He was moving the folds of the wrap out of the way to check up on Koha. His gloved hand effortlessly covered the baby's entire back.

Cara still didn't know what to make of the funny flutter she felt in her belly every time she saw this big, strong guy getting so soft around these children. It had started the first time she had seen him rock Snuggles to sleep and with time, instead of getting used to it, she had found herself more and more susceptible to it.

“She ate so much this morning, I wouldn't be surprised if she slept through the whole day.” She sent an amused chuckle down at Snuggles and scratched a finger under his chin. “Unlike somebody else who eats for ten and never takes his naps, uh?”

Din let out a small sigh. “He's never taking his eyes off her, have you noticed?”

“You think he's getting attached?”

“Yeah.”

This couldn't have been prevented. Cara herself was here because she had stumbled into this guy and his green son and had been caught in their net before she even knew what was happening. She believed Din, too, knew what it was like to find himself tangled in unexpected feelings.

“Well, that's gonna be a problem,” she said, eyeing Din meaningfully. The kid wasn't the only one who had grown overly fond of Bluebelle. Admittedly, Cara had developed a bit of a soft spot for the small blue bean who clung to her like both their lives depended on it.

She met Din's eyes through the helmet and though all she could see was that impassive beskar stare of him, his momentary silence was more eloquent than any facial expression, so much she knew exactly what was going on in his mind before he even spoke.

“What if we—”

“Please, don't go _there,”_ she cut him off, half a snap, half a plea. The last thing she needed was Din putting absurd ideas into her head. “I'm not myself right now,” she continued more calmly after a deep breath, “I might say things I don't really mean.”

“Like what?”

 _'Like I might be into this more than I'm willing to admit'_ she muses before she can stop herself.

What Din was suggesting... it could never happen. Their life was crazy enough with the responsibility of one kid, two would be impossible to handle without compromising their efficiency as hunters, and they had to make a living to survive.

“Never mind.”

She stepped back from Din, leaving his hand lingering mid-air, and pulled the fabric of the wrap back over Koha's head, tucking her closer to herself.

“Come on,” she grumbled, speeding up between the two rows of stalls, “let's finish our shopping as long as the blue monster is asleep.”

  
  


*

  
  


“Din! Din, wake up!”

Cara shook him in the dark, clutching Koha to her chest with one arm. The baby's face burned against her naked skin. Din sat up at once, blindly reaching for her face. The touch of his palm upon her cheek soothed Cara's panic.

“What's wrong?”

“She feels hot,” she stammered. “I mean _really_ hot. I think she has a fever.”

Din felt Koha's forehead and gasped when he realised Cara wasn't just being paranoid. He retrieved his helmet from the flood, slid it on and pushed Cara down onto his bunk.

“Stay here, I'll find a medic.”

After that, everything was a blur: Cara didn't know how she had come to holding two crying infants in her arms, alone in the dark, waiting and waiting and waiting in the eerie silence of the ship. She didn't remember going to pick up Snuggles, nor which child had started crying first. She felt helpless and desperate, and had no idea how long it was before Din came back with a man whose name Cara didn't even catch. Din was talking to her, too, but her mind was foggy and all sounds were merging together in a whole, meaningless buzz.

“Cara.” Din squeezed her shoulder. When had he taken Snuggles from her arms? “You should let the doctor visit Koha.”

Cara blinked. They were in the galley, the lights were on. The doctor in question, a respectable looking Zygerrian, was waiting patiently by table.

“Oh. Right.” Cara blinked again and found the act of detaching from Bluebelle so hard it almost felt physically painful.

Din had to take her hand while the doctor examined the baby to keep her from interrupting every few seconds to make sure he wasn't hurting her. There was nothing they could do to keep Snuggles from sitting by Koha and keep a cautious eye on her the whole time. It was actually rather touching to see and iit helped Cara relax a little. She had no idea why she was so anxious; it didn't completely go away even after the doctor declared Bluebelle was going to be alright.

“Keep her warm and hydrated and never lose sight of her.”

“We never do,” said Cara, utterly outraged. “We don't know how she got so sick, we're always so careful—”

“Sometimes babies just get sick, ma'am.” Unimpressed, the doctor collected his tools and stuffed them back into his bag. “She's remarkably healthy, considering she's being raised by humans. Also remarkably pretty.” He eyed Cara and Din tentatively. “If you met the right people—”

Cara felt Din stiffen beside her. His hand clenched hers, probably unconsciously, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop by several degrees. Cara rushed to gather Koha into her arms, then picked Snuggles up and propped him over her hip. Din stepped between them and the Zygerrian and, with a dreadfully polite voice, said, “Thank you for your time, doctor. You should probably go, now.”

Once the hatch locked the man outside, din returned to Cara. Koha had fallen asleep as soon as she'd touched her shoulder and Snuggles had climbed up to claim her other shoulder. As soon as Din reappeared, she cast him a furious frown.

“Did that man just imply he wanted to _fence_ Bluebelle?”

The guy had to thank Din and his admirable self-control. Hadn't Cara had her hands busy with two children, she would have been very happy to blast a hole into the good doctor's head.

“If he'd insisted I would have had to shoot him,” Din said.

Cara met Snuggle's look and beamed down at him. “This guy is so extra, isn't he?” she cooed. “So so extra.” Her smile widened as she turned it to Din. “But he's kinda cute, uh?”

Huffing out a reluctant laugh, Din wrapped his arms around her. It was a natural gesture Cara welcomed without question, leaning into him like it was something they did all the time. He held her tenderly, the two children huddled between them, and after a moment he bent to skim his helmet against her forehead.

“You would have shot him first,” he whispered in the fondest, softest tone Cara had ever heard from him.

“Absolutely correct,” she whispered back, actually rather smugly.

She didn't know what was happening—this embrace, this sudden intimacy—and didn't want to wonder what it could mean: the answers might be scarier than the doubts. She just pressed back into his touch, let her eyes flutter closed, and allowed herself a blissful smile.

  
  


*

  
  


It was a few days shy of a month since they'd had Bluebelle and it felt like it'd been forever. Cara herself could hardly believe it hadn't always been like this—she, Din, the green kid, the blue kid. They had to stick to minor, easier hunts that could be handled solo, but so far it had worked out just fine. In fact, Cara could get used to this new lifestyle, juggling between bounties and baby duties.

Undeniably, her and Din's favourite baby duty was bath time: Snuggles had always been a big water lover and they had soon discovered Koha kind of enjoyed it, too.

They usually bathed the kids in a basin, especially since Koha wasn't allowed to have a real bath yet, but on their way back to the Crest after delivering a bounty they ran into a warm spring and before they knew Snuggles was already waist-deep into the water.

“These two just love their baths, don't they?” Cara giggled as Snuggles splashed his little arms into the stream like a crazy, fuzzy bird. She was sitting with him in the shallow water while Din, perched upon a rock, was wetting his hands into the water to wash Koha. She was lying peacefully over a towel on his lap, sending him toothless little giggles every time he sprinkled her with warm water.

“Do you think parents are normally forced to take baths with their children?” he mused. He was a joy to watch, so mesmerised by the baby's enthusiastic kicks that from time to time he seemed to forget was he was doing. He was a goner: parting from this little girl was getting more and more unlikely very day, and Din wasn't the only one with a growing weakness.

“If they don't, I'd like to see them try to bathe these two and not get soaked,” said Cara, watching the kid disappear under the surface only to emerge one second later to splutter water all over her. “Especially now that Nuggie discovered water games,” she added through a hearty laughter.

Din had just started drying Koha up with gentle dabs of the towel when Cara heard a faint gasp coming from his modulator.

“What is it?” she inquired, stepping out of the water in two frantic strides.

Din immediately showed her what had caused his reaction: trapped between the folds of the towel was a small brownish thing Cara recognised at once, even before Din announced, “Her cord stump fell off.”

Cara grinned. “Yeah, look at this squishy belly and its brand new belly button! You're a big girl, now!”

Bluebelle hadn't even noticed what had happened: she was squirming happily between Din's hands, cooing her cute nonsense as she observed their faces above her as though they were the most delightful thing she'd ever seen.

“Should we do something about it?” Din wondered, ghosting his fingers over the delicate-looking purple rose of puckered skin. They didn't know much about newborns and everything was a bit of a challenge, at least until they found out it was perfectly normal for babies to cry their lungs out for no reason at all, or to throw up a bit of milk after a meal. Slowly, they were learning, but there was always something they didn't know.

Cara fished her datapad out of her backpack and did a quick research.

“Here it says we just need to keep it clean and dry until it's fully healed. Hey, we can tub bathe her after that!”

She was still talking when a pair of curious green ears popped up from below Din's knees; Snuggles tried to climb up to Din's lap and Cara had to take him before he hurt himself.

Din gave him an indulgent rub on his head. “We'll have to make sure Nuggie's enthusiasm doesn't drown her.”

The kid responded to his own name with a shrill giggle that startled Koha, making her wince with an adorably funny expression. Cara sat down on the rock next to Din and went on reading. The heat of his body was pleasant, even throught the armour.

“It took three weeks for the stump to fall off. Slightly above average.” She made a face that seemed to alarm Din.

“That's a problem?”

“No," she shrugged. "I was just wondering if she's healthy enough.”

“She's been steadily gaining weight, she looks perfectly fine to me.”

Cara's mouth twisted. “We have her weigh-ins on fruit vendors' scales, I'm not sure that's reliable.”

“Why not?” Cautiously, Din wrapped the towel around Bluebelle and lifted to place her in the crook of his arm. “We found out she weighs exactly like one hundred fifty-seven blumfruits, or six and a half meilooruns.”

Cara smiled affectionately at the memory. It surely was an interesting experience to go around asking vendors to measure their baby's weight on their scales.

“That was last week,” she argued, amused. “She's probably seven full meilooruns by now.”

In fact, soon they wouldn't be able to fit Bluebelle into any common fruit scales. She was getting chubby, much to Din and Cara's satisfaction, as any healthy baby should be. It took her a couple of seconds to realise what this meant: she was growing fast. Her eyes already bore bright specks of gold and there were more of them every day. Soon her bond with Cara would start wearing off, she would be ready to be adopted. By then, they would have to be ready to let her go, and this didn't seem so realistic any longer. Cara only had herself and the giant pile of beskar-clad softness at her side to blame for this.

Snuggles twisted in her embrace and stubbornly started pulling at her wet top until she picked his up so that he could throw his arms around her neck and cling tightly to her. He could sense her sadness, Cara had no doubt.

“Is everything okay?” Din asked. His hand was upon her bare knee, a discreet but comforting gesture that made her yearn for more—an arm around her shoulders, or her waist, the warmth of his body against hers...

“Yeah,” she said automatically, even if she felt far from okay. And then, magically, Din's arm materialised around her shoulders, just as she had imagined, and it felt good and devastating at the same time.

Everything she wanted and cherished was here for her to take. It should have been simple. It should have been easy. But everything, starting from her own feelings, was confused and overwhelming, and she didn't know where to start to unravel this giant mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm loving writing this so much, Soft Din owns my heart and Cara getting softer and softer is so fun to write. They're never going to let go of this baby and we all know it. Also, I like the idea some of you suggested that they should start collecting kids of all colours and have their own rainbow of children. I'll think about it!
> 
> This said, the recent state to lethargy the fandom seems to have fallen into has been making me feel a bit sad and lonely... where are you guys? 😭 Getting ready for the new season, I hope. Please, show up and let me know you're still there! ❤


	3. To Build A Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which "I love you" is said in many forms... except actual words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh. A oneshot became a two-shot, then three chapters, then... four, apparently. 😶 I swear I have no idea what is happening, I have no control whatsoever over this story: these people are just doing what they feel like and things are just getting... longer. Next chapter is the last, I swear. 😅

The children loved falling asleep beneath the stars. Whenever the weather and the local climate allowed it, Din and Cara would sit outside for hours under ever-changing constellations and nebulae, just talking and talking until both kids were asleep. Takodana happened to offer some of the cosiest environments for stargazing.

They'd been walking along the edge of the forest for at least an hour, now; it had taken some bouncing and singing to convince Bluebelle to close her eyes and finally doze off upon Cara's chest, but Nuggie wasn't having any of that: sitting in the crook of Din's elbow, he couldn't seem to tire of pointing out the myriad of colourful fireflies dotting the dusk.

“You can't catch them,” Din was trying to explain to him.

Nuggie looked up at him, one ear folding backwards, and let out a little questioning noise.

“They have a right to live,” Din said patiently, “just as you do.”

Nuggie's ears perked up in understanding. Cara smiled to herself: they needed to work on Din's eloquence, but he was good and perhaps he didn't even realise how much he was doing for this child simply by teaching him to respect all forms of life and all those little things that day by day were forging Snuggles's character to be kind and compassionate.

Sprawled over Cara's breast, Koha sighed softly in her sleep, her lips parted in a minuscule triangle Cara just couldn't stop staring at.

She turned her widening smile to Din. “We might have no idea what we're doing with them, but at least they seem happy,” she said, though she wasn't sure Din could hear her over Nuggie's excited cackling. Fireflies and sleep didn't go very well together, it seemed.

Din pondered her words, not remotely disturbed by the cute nonsense Nuggie was babbling incessantly at the fireflies. After a while he said, “Do you ever feel like we put this all together by sewing up scraps someone else discarded?”

The had reached the lake. Cara took in the silvery water shining like a mirror in the starlight. It was pity this planet had no moon, it would have made a nice addition to this incredible landscape.

Cara found a fallen tree trunk by the shore and sat down with Din's words swirling in her head. Koha whined briefly at the sudden lack of motion lulling her, then grabbed a fistful of Cara's shirt, rubbed her little face over the patch of skin she'd just uncovered, and contently fell back asleep.

Cara did her best to ignore the ripple of warmth spreading inside her at this sight as Din sat down beside her.

“Orphans and misfits... “ she mused with a hint of amusement, taking in the picture of the four of them together. “We do make an unlikely quartet.”

The thing was, she had never stuck so long with anyone since losing her family. She hadn't planned to stick with the mysterious Mandalorian she had crossed paths with on Sorgan, either, but he had come back for her, and nobody she had left had ever come back for her before, and what was happening now was a crescendo of unpredictable twists pulling her and this man—and these children—closer and closer. She noticed Din was scrutinising her, and wondered if he felt the same way.

She made herself giggle as she voiced her next thought, “It's like fate just... jammed us together and then said _'Whatever, guys, just make this work'.”_ She waved a hand between herself and Din, a gesture that easily encompassed the two children each of them was carrying. Din cocked his helmet in a way that Cara had learned to translate into a quiet grin.

“Well, looks like it's working.” His tone definitely felt like a grin, too. On his knees, Snuggles was busy chatting with the fireflies fluttering around his head in his own babbling language.

“They're content with so little...” Cara sighed, arms tightening unconsciously around Koha. “A warm bed, a full belly...”

“Someone to comfort them when they cry...” Din finished for her. Cara nodded with a quick laugh.

“We're getting soft, man.”

“Don't say it like it's bad.”

“Said the guy wrapped up in beskar,” she teased. There were crickets on this planet. She hadn't been on a planet with crickets since Alderaan. She had missed this sound, the cosy atmosphere it evoked... It felt like home.

Din was watching her, she could tell.

“Beskar can't guard you from this kind of softness,” he muttered in a way that made Cara shiver. Suddenly she wished she had put on a sweater over this light shirt. The night air was cool but not unpleasant, though; a scent of grass and wet earth wafted through it, wiping dust off old, forgotten memories rooted deep in Cara's soul—memories about family and love that all of a sudden didn't feel as painful once had. She returned his gaze and hoped he could see the affection in it.

“Unfortunately I think that's true.”

There was little to no distance between them, and it was easy to guess what would have happened if there hadn't been his helmet preventing them from doing reckless, stupid things they probably wouldn't even regret. What a couple of old fools.

They stared at each other for a long while, the silence around them tense with all the unspoken things, the impossible impulses... They were clumsy in this dance around each other but eager, even though in a very cautious way. Things were changing and they could pretend to look away only for so long. What they had found together and with these little ones, without even looking for it, was something neither of them seemed to be willing to give up.

“Cara—”

“Din, I—“

They made each other break into an awkward giggle, but before they could say anything else they were interrupted by the most unexpected sound.

“Da-da?”

Even the crickets fell silent. Cara held her breath and Din, too, sounded breathless as he gasped, “What?”

“I think he said—” Cara began, but Nuggie said that again, this time more firmly: “Dada!”

Din's incredulous laughter was so genuine and touching Cara felt a lump of emotion swell in her throat.

“This is all your doing,” Din accused her fondly while the kid kept mumbling _'Dadadadada'_ like it was the most fun thing in the world.

“Mine?” said Cara with an innocent look.

“I don't call myself _Daddy_ in front him all the time.”

Okay, so maybe she enjoyed referring to Din as _Daddy_ when she thought she and the kids were alone. Damn his sharp ear.

She was about to retort something adequately witty when she felt Snuggles's nails tug at her arm. She glanced down and met his eyes in the faint milky light of the night.

“Mmm?” he was mumbling at her.

Amused, Cara arched an eyebrow at him. “Mmm what?”

“Mmm!” he insisted in that stubborn tone of his he always used when he thought he was being perfectly clear with his nonsensical gibberish. “Mmma!”

Cara opened her mouth to ask him to be quiet because Koha was sleeping, but what she heard next froze her tongue.

“Mmmama!”

The knot in her throat tightened so hard she couldn't breathe. She couldn't stop the sense of wetness pooling in the corners of her eyes, not even after swallowing a couple of times. This was... adorably unfair.

“You little shit,” she nearly sobbed while running a hand on top of his fuzzy head. “You play dirty. Who even taught you that?”

She had been close to saying things like _'Come to mama'_ or _'Let mama fix this'_ a few times, but there seemed to be a fail-safe in her brain blocking dangerous terms like this. And yet the kid had picked it up, somehow, and since it hadn't been from Cara, there was only another possible culprit left.

“It... slipped,” Din stammered when she turned her glare to him. “Just once,” he swore, and she could sense he was shamelessly lying to her face. “Maybe twice.”

The nerve of this guy. She couldn't even bring herself to be mad at him because the mere thought of him referring to her as _mama_ while talking to the kids pulled at sensitive strings in her heart she hadn't even been aware of before.

Touched by Din's sweet embarrassment, Cara scooted closer to him and, giggling, let her head fall to his shoulder. She let out something between a sigh and a moan when she felt his arm ghost its way around her waist. She closed her eyes, feeling unreasonably happy and whole.

Her voice was weak and husky with emotion as she whispered, “You play dirty, too.”

  
  


*

_I'll catch a star, light your path  
And guide through this night  
I'll chase the fear out of your heart  
All wrong, we can turn right_

_Hush, my darling  
Hush, my dear  
I will be right here_

_Find the beauty in this dark  
This is all dreams' home  
Even when we're far apart  
You'll never be alone_

_Hush, my baby  
Hush, my love  
Trust the stars above_

_Close your eyes  
Sleep, sleep tight  
My arms will keep you warm_

Cara's voice faded, the echo of it a stranger to her own ears. She hadn't heard this lullaby since her childhood, and this was the first time ever she had sung it herself. It was that time of the night when it was impossible to tell if it was very late or very early, the black of the sky tinged in a yellowish glow that promised imminent snow. The Crest was quiet, except for the low buzzing of the heating. It was cold outside and pleasantly warm inside, the front screens lined with frost patterns growing thicker by the moment. She was sitting on the cockpit floor with Bluebelle nestled between her arm and her bosom, legs stretched out in front of her, ankles crossed, feeling calm and in peace, if slightly uncomfortable. She was getting used to spending half of her nights like this.

Koha still wasn't sleeping, but at least she wasn't crying any more. A bit of milk and a little pampering had done the trick before any damage was done. Or so Cara thought.

“That was beautiful.”

She winced. Her head snapped up: Din was standing on the threshold with a very sleepy Snuggles clinging to his bare neck. He apologised for startling her, plopping down at her side; Cara gave him a mock scolding scowl.

“We weren't supposed to have an audience.”

Din let his head rest back against the wall and turned to her. “I'm glad I didn't miss it.”

It was only because of his undeniable sincerity that Cara didn't complain further. She wasn't very confident about her singling skills but lullabies worked with Bluebelle and as long as there was nobody to make fun of her, Cara was willing to try. She was probably going to have to kill Din after tonight, but that was a sacrifice she was willing to make for the sake of her dignity.

“My mother used to sing it to us when we had nightmares,” she revealed, her superficial nonchalance veiled by a tone of melancholy.

Din ran a finger down Koha's button nose, earning a soft hum from her. “She looks like she enjoyed it.”

“She enjoys everything that comes out of my mouth,” Cara laughed under her breath, “swearwords and everything. I'm not sure that counts.”

“I enjoyed it,” Din stressed. “We both did, it seems,” he added with an eloquent glance at Nuggie, who was snoring soundly upon his chest. “You're a good singer.”

“You're just saying that,” Cara complained, but Din wasn't having any of her self-conscious shit.

“No, I'm not.”

And then next thing Cara knew was that she was being pulled under his arm and closer to his chest.

“Okay, we're cuddlers, now,” she babbled, slightly bewildered, but certainly not displeased, by the expected display of intimacy. “Must have missed the memo.”

Din bumped his helmet against the side of her head. “Shut up and sing, Dune.”

Cara didn't even attempt to stifle a shit-eating chuckle. “Those are conflicting requests, I'm confused.”

“You and your big mouth, Dune,” Din snorted. “If you weren't holding a baby...”

“What, you'd punch me?”

“Headbutt you?”

Cara bit her lip, smirking suggestively. “The Mando way?”

She was taken aback by how long it took to Din to fire back, and also by the vague quiver in his voice when he finally said, “Maybe.”

Well. That was _a lot,_ even though everything remained implied. Cara herself had never gone so close to an open admission and... well, credit when it was due. The guy was pretty tough, even without his beskar.

“Who knew you were such a romantic.”

She was quite positive the deceptively annoyed huff she got from Din was actually a chuckle.

Satisfied with the response, Cara huddled closer and made herself more comfortable. Snuggles cracked an eye open to acknowledge her presence and gracefully decided to let her and Koha share his human pillow.

  
  


*

  
  


A few nights later, it was Cara's turn to be awaken in the middle of the night by nondescript muffled noises coming from the cargo bay. She got up from her bunk trying not to rouse Bluebelle and went to check up on Din, finding Snuggles sleeping alone in his bunk. This was odd.

As gently as she could, she scooped up the kid, soothing his protests with reassuring whispers, then headed toward the cargo bay. As she got closer, she realised the noises she'd been hearing were hardware tools at work and... imprecations in Mando'a?

She knocked on the door frame before walking in.

“ _Haar'chak!”_ Din was grumbling, kneeling on the floor, a fraction of a second before realising he wasn't alone any more. He was surrounded by parts, and nuts and bolts of all sizes; before him stood something that remotely resembled some sort of seat.

“Here you are,” Cara sighed in relief. She approached, adjusting Nugget on her hip. “You got us scared for a—“ She stopped dead in her tracks, suddenly figuring out what the thing in front of Din was. She blinked, “Are you building a rocking chair?”

This wasn't a question she ever imagined asking, least of all to a Mandalorian in his pyjamas, and yet here they were.

Din's helmet gave her a blank stare and his reply was an equally blank, “Yes.”

Cara rolled her eyes. This man could be so infuriating, sometimes.

“And you woke up to do that in the middle of the night because...?”

“I just... did.”

“Okay, weirdo. Sleep is overrated, anyway, right?”

Din put down the wrench he had in his hand and stood up with a faint groan. Cara's mouth curled up at the sight of him: he was smudged with grease everywhere. Din rubbed a hand behind his neck and glanced down helplessly at the mess he had left on the ground.

“I wanted you to have somewhere comfortable to sit when you're singing the kids to sleep.”

Cara would have blushed if she hadn't been so busy trying to keep her big, touched grin at bay. _A rocking chair._ Din was building her a rocking chair. This was both comical and heart-melting.

“Thanks,” Cara said. Damn, her big, touched smile was getting out of control. “Now I'll be falling asleep before them every single night.”

He walked up to her and just stood there, arms hanging at his sides like he wasn't sure what to do with them.

He tilted his head, whispered, “I'll be happy to carry all three of you to bed.”

Cara waned to pull him into a hug but that was a challenging task with two infants occupying her arms. She gave the children a meaningful little bounce.

“This's settled pretty seamlessly into our life, hasn't it? Uncomfortable sleeping positions, toys everywhere, evening cuddles after dinner... When did we get so domestic?”

Din shrugged. “Somewhere along the line, I guess.” He hinted at the chair. “Want to try it? I promise it's safe, I tested it myself.”

He helped Cara ease herself into the chair without waking the sleeping kids. It required some perfecting and definitely a good padding—the metal was hard and cold against her naked legs—but other than that it worked: it was heavy, sturdy, and its slow swing was just what it took to placate the wailing monsters. Din must have put some serious consideration into this project.

“Wanna join us?” she grinned up at him. “There's a few spare inches on my knees.”

Din shook his head. “I like the view from here.”

Cara stroked Koha's soft head with her cheek. “Suit yourself,” she grumbled. “Just make sure I don't drop these two if I fall asleep.”

She didn't know what Din's face looked like and she probably never would; despite this, she knew exactly what sort of expression he was wearing as her cupped her face into his hand and, swiping his thumb tenderly across her cheek, muttered, “I won't take my eyes off the three of you.”

Cara didn't know how to feel about any of this. Din had built her a rocking chair. It was a very thoughtful gesture and a very personal gift. She was deeply touched, and it didn't even make any sense, because it wasn't even a brand-new blaster or the Tehk'la blade she had never been able to afford. It was _a chair,_ just a thing to sit on and there was nothing special at all about it, except... except for the fact that _he_ had made it. _For her._

Her hand moved before she even knew it. It grabbed Din's a tugged gently.

“Hey?”

“Yes?” he said in a slow, wistful tone that made the slight curve on Cara's lip bloom into a loving smile.

“You're adorable when you curse in Mando'a.”

  
  


*

Cara hadn't been sure about coming to Keren, afraid any expectation she had ever had about this place might be fatally shattered forever. During her several visits on Naboo, she had always avoided this particular city, for no other reason than a legitimate fear it would never compare to home.

It didn't.

Keren was an Alderaanian sanctuary: many of Cara's people lived here in peace and prosperity, but as she walked through the city streets Cara couldn't find any of the sense of kinship and familiarity she had always imagined in her daydreams. Keren was only yet another place full of meaningless faces, there was no belonging for her, here. Whatever _home_ had been for her, she would never find it here, just because it was inhabited by people who shared her cultural background. In a way, it was a relief: now at least she knew nothing of what she had lost could be brought back, no matter how hard she tried.

The day was sunny and the sky as clear and blue as it could ever be, and Cara was slowly realising she wasn't sad for what she hadn't been able to find here: she was content as she was, walking side by side with this showy Mandalorian attracting fascinated looks from everyone. They must have been quite a sight, the both of them: covered in armours and weapons with two cooing infants in their arms.

Cara stayed behind with Bluebelle while Din walked into an inn to inquire about a tip they'd recently received from one of Greef's contacts about the Jedi. It was unlikely it would lead them anywhere, but they'd deemed it worth a try, if only to have an excuse to touch down for a few days and let the kids get some fresh air.

She sat down on the round fountain in the middle of the small square and grinned at Koha's curious eyes following the movements of the trees above them. She was making those little gurgles she always made when she was enjoying herself. Cara could hardly believe this blue bean full of life and joy was the same weak creature she had fished out of that filthy bag weeks ago.

“You have a baby! Lemme see your baby!

A little girl was rushing toward them from across the square, messy blond curls bobbing on her shoulders. She came to a halt in front of Cara and unceremoniously pulled at the folds of Kohas's lilac blanket to take a better look at her.

“Easy,” Cara warned, a bit irritated by the girl's manners, “she's not a doll.”

The girl didn't even seem to hear her: she rose on her tiptoes and peeked inside the bundle in Cara's arms, only to draw back at once with a disconcerted scowl.

“Ew, she's blue!”

Cara instinctively placed a hand over Koha's head and tucked her back against her chest.

“You got a problem with our blue baby, kid?”

Blondie's mouth twisted. “Blue is not pretty!”

Cara leant forward with a cold simper. “You know what's not pretty?” she hissed an inch from the girl's insufferably crinkled nose. “Your face.”

After a moment of shock, Blondie stuck out her tongue and ran away with an over dramatic pout puckering her obnoxious mouth, much to Cara's satisfaction. A smug smirk had just started appearing on her lips when she heard a chuckle coming from behind her; a moment later, Din appeared beside her, the kid balanced on a shoulder.

“Weren't you a bit harsh?” he said. “She was just a little girl.”

That was not an excuse: little girls had to learn to respect people of all sizes, colours, and ages, too, and the sooner, the better.

“So what? She doesn't get a free pass to be rude to our kid.”

Din sat down next to her. “You said that again.”

“Said what?”

“ _Our.”_

On Din's shoulder, Nuggie let out a sound suspiciously close to a chuckle. This kid was worse than a sponge, way smarter than most people believed: Cara was sure he did understand more than they guessed. She felt a not too delicate pat on her head and turned to find Snuggles giving her a very bad imitation of a caress. Din pulled him down from his shoulder and sat him down on his lap; Koha immediately reacted to seeing him and started reaching out for him with her chubby hands. These two were too cute to handle separately, but together they were downright irresistible. Cara's heart hadn't been trained to guard itself from this sort of assault.

“Cara.” She nearly jumped when Din's hand touched her knee. There was a hesitant pause, then he whispered, “Why don't we keep her?”

Cara held her breath. Koha squirmed in a weak protest and only then Cara noticed she had tightened her grip around her; she eased her embrace and the baby hummed gratefully, nuzzling back into her bosom with her little fingers kneading into Cara's shirt.

Cara was paralysed. _We,_ Din had said. Was there even a _we?_ She had no idea what they'd been doing all this time besides juggling between baby duties and rushed, easy hunts to get by. This couldn't go on forever: children needed stability, and they could barely keep this together, whatever _this_ was. Love wasn't enough: their way of life couldn't provide a healthy environment for these two rug rats. She cast a helpless glance down at Bluebelle as a sad smile surfaced on her lips.

“She's so small and fragile,” she mused. “Snuggles is a toddler, and a very special one,” she turned to Din, “this little lady is a _newborn,_ and she doesn't have amazing powers to protect herself.”

“That's why we're here,” he argued softly. His hand came up to close upon Cara's over Koha's head. “To be here for her and Nugget, not just to protect them. Come on, Dune.” He nudged her with his helmet. “Look at her.”

Cara was looking: those beautiful black eyes with golden shards in them, the tender hands stubbornly clawing at her shirt like Koha was afraid Cara might let go of her any moment...

“She _is_ unfairly cute,” Cara grudgingly admitted, running a finger down Bluebelle's enchanting button nose. “Aren't you? Yes, Nuggie, you're cute, too,” she added when Snuggles's ears flew up in jealousy. She let him crawl under her arm and cuddle up underneath it at Koha's feet under Din's quiet gaze. His hand was still on her knee.

“Think about it,” he begged her. “Please.”

Cara couldn't _think about it._ If she did, she would start imagining things that could never be.

“Why are you doing this to me?” she muttered weakly, unable to take her eyes off Bluebelle and Nuggie huddled together like that. There was no denying giving this little one away was going to be painful for everyone.

“We can do this,” Din said, squeezing her knee, “but only if we do this together.”

Cara fought to swallow the thick lump swelling in her throat.

She was finding it harder and harder to silence that little, persistent voice whispering sweet lies in her ear.

_'He's right: you can do it. You and him, together. You can. Y OU CAN.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going through one of those rough patches where I feel a bit sad and empty inside and writing doesn't really flow as I'd like. I'm doing my best to finish this fic because I'd hate to leave it unfinished but it's possible that I'll be quiet for a while if this dark mood doesn't subside. Hopefully S2 will cheer me up.
> 
> On a brighter note: we finally have the Din Djarin/Cara Dune tag! I'm so so happy to finally see their names together! The little joys of life, right? 😊
> 
> Take care, my friends. A big, warm hug to everyone! I hope you enjoyed the read. ❤


	4. The Long Way Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Big steps are made, and brave decisions. Things happen—in an unusual order, but they happen.

Everything seemed possible in the bucolic atmosphere of Naboo, with its peace and lush nature and crystal waters. In a place like this, it was easy to picture a different life, a real house, a better future... but it was just a dream. She and Din were warriors and there was no way a former shock trooper and a Mandalorian could be anything other than that.

Cara turned back from the view on the lake offered by the balcony and smiled at the sight of Nuggie sprawled on top of Din's chest as they both slumbered on the soft bed. This was by far the most luxurious inn they'd ever slept in and Cara couldn't wait to see Snuggles devouring his breakfast in the morning.

“Why are they sleeping so soundly and we're not?” she asked Bluebelle while she rocked her in the bright light of the two moons gracing the night on this side of the planet.

The golden specks in the baby's eyes glittered like stars. She gave Cara something like a smile, arms stretched out in her direction as if wanting to touch her face. When Cara bent her head to get within Koha's reach and felt her fingers upon her mouth, she couldn't help a quiet laugh.

“You're so cute, damn you,” she whispered, brushing the tip of her nose over the baby's. She couldn't get enough of this sweet, soapy scent. “Why are you so unfairly cute?”

Those round, puffy cheeks were begging to be smooched, and pinched, and smooched again. It was a funny, overwhelming feeling Cara wasn't sure how to handle. It scared her, in a way: it was a pull she couldn't control and had never allowed herself to give in to. She had had this baby in her arms for the better part of the last few weeks and not even once she had given in to the temptation of kissing Bluebelle's pretty face, despite wanting to.

As if reading her mind, Koha tugged at Cara until she could take her whole face into her hands and giggled excitedly when she could finally feel the warmth on Cara's breath on her skin.

“Oh, no, don't you dare give me that dopey look, missy,” Cara scolded her playfully. “That's cheating, you know that.”

She didn't even know who this person was. Carasynthia Dune, talking to a baby in this silly squeaky voice? What was even happening to her?

Gently, she disentangled one of Koha's hands from her hair and let it curl around her finger. She rubbed her thumb over Koha's minuscule knuckles. There was something warm and powerful trying to claw its way into her heart.

Cara closed her eyes, exhaled a heavy sigh.

“Stop making me feel things I don't want to feel.”

  
  


*

Exhaustion was starting to take its toll on Cara's sleep-deprived body after three whole nights like this. Koha got restless every time she even tired to sit down, so Cara had had to abandon the rocking chair to go in the cockpit to pace and useless hum lullabies without disturbing the boys. That until Din materialised on the threshold looking groggy and not entirely awake, even with the helmet covering his face.

“You should get some sleep.”

Cara threw her head back to the wall she was slumped against with a weary groan. “She starts fussing as soon as I try to put her down.”

Din came forward, his bare feet leaving fleeting prints on the cold floor. He checked Koha, then lifted his look on Cara's positively dreadful face. She was sure she looked more like a corpse than a person. Din didn't seem to notice anything beside her tiredness, though.

“I'm starting to think she's just very spoiled,” he said with a hand cupped behind Bluebelle's head. The little shit was chatting in bubbly sounds to no particular recipient; she was just very happy to be there and apparently wanted to make it as clear as possible. At three AM, Naboo time.

Following the back and forth arches of Din's thumb across the baby's forehead, Cara grinned to herself as she murmured, “We seem to be excellent kid spoilers.”

Din hummed his agreement, then silence fell into the cockpit and the only audible sound was Koha's incoherent babbling. They just stood there to watch her for a long while, and somewhere along the way Din's arms ended up around Cara's, holding her embrace around little Koha.

“At least come to bed,” he pleaded. His fingertips felt hot and firm upon her back, a touch so calming and comforting Cara couldn't but lean into him and let him pull her into a full hug.

“You trying to get into my pants while I'm _holding a baby?”_ she quipped into his neck.

“I'm trying to get you to rest,” he retorted, more sternly that she would have expected. He really was worried about her. There was a big pile of mush beneath this rough, scarred skin.

“I'm fine,” she promised. “Quite worn out, but fine.”

“Come on,” he insisted, and tugged her away. He stayed behind her and helped her down the ladder; she let him, even though she didn't need any assistance. He knew.

He led her to his bunk, whose sheets were crumpled to one side, and sat so that she could climb up between his legs. He let her rest back against his chest, them pulled up the covers and held them up around her with his own arms. The lights went out.

Cara sighed contentedly. “I could stay like this all night.”

“Then stay.”

“You and your back are gonna regret this tomorrow,” she giggled under her breath.

“My back, maybe,” he conceded, but it was what he didn't say that caused a pleasant flutter in Cara's heart, right beneath Koha's ear.

She heard a dull thud and knew Din had got rid of his helmet; when his chin touched her shoulder she felt a coarse tickle.

“You have a beard.”

Din stiffened behind her. “Yes. Does it bother you?”

“No,” she smiled. “Feels nice.”

She wiggled back into him and dropped her head onto his shoulder. This was amazing. She hadn't been able to lie down for more than a few minutes per night these past couple of days and being able to lie back like this was more than she could have hoped for. This was... good. Good and much more intimate than their usual physical contact, especially given how scarcely clothed they both were. But it didn't feel awkward or inappropriate. It actually felt quite _right._

Tentatively, Din buried his face through her hair, into her neck. She felt the tickle of his beard, a fleeting brush of his lips just above her clavicle. It sent a rush of heat across her body.

“I don't want to make things weird,” he mumbled in a brittle tone, vaguely apologetic, that Cara just didn't want to hear.

“You're not.”

“No?”

She leant back against his shoulder and turned to brush a blind kiss just above his jawline. Hearing him holding his breath for a split second brought a smile to her lips as she nuzzled her face under his chin, whispering a tender _'No'_ against his skin.

“I'm about to say something very controversial,” she continued sotto voce. “You can blame it on the baby-induced weakness if you didn't want to hear it.”

She could feel his lips move as he whispered, “Shock me.”

A yawn cut Cara's confession. She was seriously drained. She tried again, sleepiness turning her voice into a heavy, barely audible sigh: “We make a pretty decent parenting team.”

She was vaguely aware of the light shake of his chest—was he laughing?—then sense his grip strengthening around her.

“Pretty decent,” he murmured fondly in her ear, “yes.”

Cara shivered—oh, so pleasantly.

Shit was happening, here, and it was the sort of huge, life-changing shit she had always shied away from all her life.

 _Not tonight,_ her conscience muttered while her eyes started falling closed.

_No more running. Not this time. Not with this guy._

She fell asleep like this, safe and serene in the arms of this exceptional man, surrounded by so much love it secretly brought tears to her eyes.

  
  


*

  
  


On the battlefield, Cara Dune and Din Djarin were lethal, moving like one mind in two bodies with a synchronisation no engineered practice could have granted them. Their connection was all raw, natural instinct—an innate gift rather than an achievement—and for this reason they had no match in the galaxy.

That, at least, as bounty hunters.

As parents, they were clumsy and sketchy and very far from perfect, but neither of them could remember a time when they had been as happy as they were now, with their captures' carbonite slabs sharing the storage room with rows of baby clothes hanging everywhere to dry, and the cockpit floor littered with crumpled tissues and the random things Snuggles had claimed as his toys. The old Crest was a mess, these days, and it was the warmest, cosiest mess Cara had ever seen.

Nuggie had just fallen asleep in Din's arms; Din was putting him down into his pram. Bluebelle was still half awake in Cara's arms, visibly tired but too enraptured by Cara's voice to give in to sleep. It felt overwhelming to be looked at like that, to feel so important for doing so little... She was completely enamoured with this tiny, helpless being she never asked for and who was now watching her with these big gold-speckled dark eyes so full of touching wonder.

“Do you ever wonder what's gonna be of us when we're too old to keep up with this life?” Cara heard herself asked before she even realised she was wondering that. Her heart tightened. “We'll be old and sore and lonely—”

Her life had always been focused on every today and every now, all the tomorrows stocked up as remote possibilities with no plans or hopes, empty just like every yesterday. It was more than just survival, now: what Cara had found with this man and these children was not something she had ever thought she would have, but now that she had it she was slowly starting to realise she didn't want to lose it.

Din was observing her from behind his helmet with an expression whose softness she wasn't guessing so much as sensing.

“It doesn't have to be like that.”

His genuine optimism brought a bitter smile to her lips.

“We can't be bounty hunters forever.”

“That is not what I meant.”

He walked up to Cara and stopped just an inch shy of her. He said nothing for a long while, watching her rock Koha in silence. Little by little, the bitter smile on Cara's lips morphed into a tender grin. Din wasn't even touching her, and yet she felt surrounded by something warm and powerful, like an embrace holding her tight, infusing strength in every crack of weakness inside her.

It was beautiful but there was a sense of uncertainty to it. It had been like this for a while between them, navigating between unspoken things and doubts, questioning boundaries, reaching out for each other in the dark, yearning but never really daring to take a decisive step.

She couldn't help but ask, “What are we doing, Din? Raising these kids on a rusty ship, playing happy family when we're not even—”

“Not even what?”

“You know...”

“No, I don't,” he said blankly.

Cara glanced up at him, slightly miffed by his stupid, adorable cluelessness.

“Not a _thing.”_

Din brought up his hand to curl it tenderly around the back of Koha's head, eliciting a faint pleased sound from the baby. She was finally staring to nod off. And suddenly Din said, “Do we need to be a _thing_ to give these kids a good life?”

Cara froze. This wasn't the sort of response she was aiming for.

“Of course not, but—” She didn't know what she was supposed to argue: it was true, they didn't _have_ to be involved at a deeper level of intimacy to make a family with these children, after all.

Din, however, wasn't done, and before she could even feel the sadness of the idea of _not_ being with him in a completely different way he added, “Do we _want_ to be a thing?”

Cara swallowed the lump in her throat, unsure whether to take this as a harmless question or not.

“For the babies' sake?” she inquired, not wanting to give in to hope too soon. If he wanted to be with her for the kids, it was okay, she was on board, but she couldn't deny she didn't want just that. Not any more.

Din's hand glided from Koha's head to Cara's elbow and up her arm, and, squeezing her shoulder, he said, “No.”

And that was it, all Cara needed to hear was right there in that plain, simple sound, and when Din's helmet timidly touched her forehead she knew they were on the same page, here, not just about the kids, about about each other, as well.

“What happened to us?” she wondered with a hint of amusement. “We used to be tough, lonely warriors, and now look at us, all domesticated and touchy-feely over a couple of little brats.”

Din's arms were around her, now, a light, comforting presence reminding them all of this was real, and getting stronger by the moment.

“I like to think,” Din began, “it's not just because of them. Am I wrong?”

He took her face into his hand, gently made her look up at him, and her heart seemed to stop. How could she feel so much love for someone whose face she had never been allowed to see?

And yet, if someone asked her to describe the man she loved, she would know exactly what to say: _He looks brave. He looks strong. He looks kind._

She held Koha to her chest with one arm as her other hand lifted to cover Din's upon her cheek. “You're not wrong,” she whispered.

And the sound he made—like a half choked laugh—brought back a memory from a time that now seemed so far away, a time where the two of them had slept under the stars, and fought alongside a village of good people, and they had found themselves soaking in a pond, exhausted but happy, and the sound he had made in that pond, right by her side, had been the same as this: a sound coming straight from his soul.

“Do we want to be a thing, Cara?”

She leant into his caress and nodded, beaming like an old, sentimental fool. “I think we do.”

His thumb swiped fondly across her cheekbone.

“So do I,” he murmured, a smile shining through his tone. “We can start from here.”

So this was it, they had taken down the final wall. It felt like a liberation and a challenge at the same time.

“I've never been this close to anyone,” she confessed with a meek little voice that made her cringe at herself, but Din immediately reassured her: “Neither have I.”

Cara took a deep breath and let his closeness soothe her nervousness away. _We've got this,_ she told herself and didn't even find it hard to believe as Din carefully took Bluebelle out of her arms and set her down into the makeshift cradle they had attached to Cara's bunk.

“She hasn't slept so soundly in days,” he noted with tangible relief.

Cara chuckled, “We should discuss feelings more often, seems a pretty effective tranquilliser.”

“We have to admit,” he said, “our combined forces can do rather remarkable things.”

Cara could almost see his subtle smirk. What an insufferable show-off.

“Alright, Mandalorian,” with a small grin, she held up her hand, “Together?”

Din let out _that_ sound again, much to Cara's delight, then, without hesitation, he clasped his hand around hers and squeezed tight.

“Together.”

  
  


*

Once was all it took for Cara to know that the impalpable touch of Din's lips against her temple was her new favourite wake up call. Within three days, they had learned every inch and ever crook of each other's bodies and mapped every sensitive spot,and even though Din's face remained a secret to Cara's eyes, he lips and fingertips knew everything about it, a picture she could see clear as day, not with her sight, but with every other sense.

Din's hand was hot, splayed over the small of her back, his chest rising and falling calmly beneath her cheek. Nuggie was wedged between them, his little feet pressing into Din's side and his bottom sticking out against Cara's, while Koha was slumbering contently upon Cara's breast.

They had awoken like this countless times before, but little things here and there gave away the shift Cara and Din's relationship had started taking—his fingers sneaking below the waistline of her shorts, her arm bent back to absently stroke his face, his lips dropping a sloppy kiss on the inside of her wrist...

Cara hummed and stirred lazily, doing her best not to disturb the little ones. Another few minutes of peace would be amazing.

She loved every single thing about this, intrusive little limbs and everything. It was hard to believe how fast this whole situation had evolved: she had walked right into a trap and wasn't even trying to escape any longer. If fate had outsmarted her and tricked her into this stupid tangle of love and bliss, she wouldn't be so arrogant to keep on fighting it.

 _Together_ was a powerful word, both for her and for Din, and perhaps it would have sounded scarier without the previous long months of _togetherness_ they had been sharing before any of this had a name.

Half an hour later, up and about to muster up breakfast with Bluebelle squirming on her shoulder, Cara was still thinking about happiness and all those silly, ordinary things she had given up dreaming about a long time ago. She thought she had lost her chance to find all of that when she lost Alderaan, living for years like an angry stray dog yearning for a belonging, until one day, when she had already stopped trying, this belonging had found her in a cantina on a backwater planet in the unlikely form of a Mandalorian and his fuzzy green child.

While Din chopped down meat and vegetables for Snuggles's meal, Cara sat down to feed Koha her morning bottle.

“Stop stealing these,” Din scolded, swatting Nuggie's sneaky hand away from the plate in front of him. “We must cook these first,” he said more softly when the kid gazed up at him apologetically. “Cutting first, then cooking, then eating. Okay?”

He met Cara's smile across the table, then got up to go to the small burner, leaving Nuggie with Cara. When he got back and sat down beside her, pulling Snuggles onto his lap, Koha's bottle was empty and Cara was lost in a million thoughts. How could this tiny blue been have grown so much in the last couple of months? They had no idea how many meiloroons she weighed, now: it had been a while since they'd last managed to fit her in the plate of a fruit scale. Their baby was a big girl, by now.

“Her eyes have almost completely turned gold,” Cara said wistfully.

“They're quite beautiful,” Din said after helping Snuggles drive the fork into his mouth without incidents.

They _were_ beautiful, like starry nights, but this was not the point.

“She's ready.”

A pang of sorrow pierced through Cara as the words left her mouth. It ebbed just slightly when Din put a hand on her knee and muttered, “I guess she is.”

This was probably even harder for him. He had wanted to keep Bluebelle since the very first day and Cara had seen the love pour out of every single gesture and word he had spared for this lucky baby who had almost died in a dirty bag, alone and forgotten.

The dormant beast dwelling within Cara's chest jerked its head up at the smell of rage rising around it. Cara couldn't even think about what could have happened hadn't she and Din rescued her in time. One thing she knew for sure: giving up this baby was not an option.

“Din, I—” She struggled to speak, her throat tight, and painfully so. “I don't think I can let her go.”

His fingers twitched into her knee. “Yeah?”

As crazy as it was, Cara wasn't willing to take any chances.

“What if—what if she's taken in by the wrong people and something bad happens to her? I couldn't forgive myself. We saved her, Din, it's our responsibility to make sure she's safe and loved.”

She felt the familiar nudge of Din's helmet against the side of her head and imagined his lips touching her hair instead of hard beskar.

“You know,” he whispered in her ear, “I happen to know someone who can give her all of that.”

“Yeah, well... this is insane.”

“Not as much as you think.”

“Do you think we could do that?”

“If it's what we both want, yes.”

This was Din Djarin: a firm beacon of light in the middle of the darkest night. Cara let herself lean into him and welcomed the reassuring pressure of his arm around her waist. _We've got this,_ she reminded herself once again.

“We're already sort of doing this, aren't we?”

Nuggie had abandoned his big boy fork and was now stuffing handfuls of meat and vegetables into his mouth while looking between Cara and Din with his ears pointing up with interest.

“We're already doing a lot of things we're not calling by their name,” Din stressed amiably. “But this is a step we can't take light-heartedly. If we decide we want to be these kids' parents, we can't take it back.”

Cara nodded, eyes transfixed on Bluebelle's slow breaths while her hand rubbed over her rounded tummy. “I don't know if I can be somebody's parent, but what we have now... I don't want it to change.”

“Not even slightly?”

Cara frowned at Din. “What's that supposed to mean?”

The table was a mess of spilled caf, oi-oi pancakes left to run cold, and wood sticks Nuggie loved to break down into minuscule pieces when he was bored; Cara's shirt was crumpled and stained with milk, her hair mussed, and Din's hand was sticky with gravy when he reached out to take Cara's. This was how it happened: no moonlight and fancy dresses or expensive stuff; just the two of them and their foundlings, and the quiet buzz of the ship's engines droning in the background.

Din rubbed the back of Cara's hand with his thumb; his hand was sweaty and trembling a little. He said, “I know I have nothing on a Mirialan princess, but...” he made a pause, took a long breath and let it out, and then, “would you consider a humble Mandalorian?”

“Hold on—hold on a sec.” For some reason, Cara found herself giggling. She just couldn't stop: it was bubbling up from deep inside her and out, like sunshine fighting to spill through a curtain. “Is this a proposal? Like, _that kind_ of proposal?”

It was a joy to hear an echo of her own laugh in Din's voice when he squeezed her hand and just said, “Yes.”

Cara could barely breathe. Why did her heart feel like it was about to burst?

“We're doing things a little backwards, here, aren't we?” she grinned, squeezing Din's hand back in a poor attempt to get some grounding and convince herself all of this was real and truly happening.

“That's a yes?” Din asked, and Cara simply had to poke her elbow into his ribs for needing to _ask._

“It's a _'Duh, of course!',_ you idiot!”

“Really?”

And Cara was giggling again like a foolish schoolgirl with her first crush. Except they were grown-ass adults and they were getting married, apparently.

She sneaked a hand under his helmet and took his chin between her fingers with a coy smile. “Between baby bottles and shenanigans, you must have failed to notice I'm hopelessly in love with you.”

The idiot had the nerve to sound surprised: “You _are?”_

Cara laughed and bent forward to brush a loving kiss on his neck.

“Just tell me you're hopelessly in love with me too.”

And Din laughed— _that_ laugh exactly—and Cara could perceive every drop of awe in his words as he pulled their foreheads together and said, “I'm hopelessly in love with you, too.”

Cara bit her lip, feeling hot and smug and impossibly _whole._

“Now we're talking.”

She tipped Din's helmet back just enough to expose his lips and steal a kiss, then pulled back and, smirking, asked, “So, how do Mandos put a ring on it?”

  
  


*

  
  


_6 MONTHS LATER_

Din entered the cantina with a heavy backpack thrown over a shoulder and a long bill to present to Greef in his hand. It had taken him and Cara a while to collect all the bounties: lately they had been busy with much more important responsibilities, after all. Greef would have to forgive their tardiness.

He found the boss himself sitting at one of the booths sorting out pucks. When Greef saw him, he stood up and rushed forward to greet him warmly.

“Mando, what a surprise! Took you long enough to come back!”

Din shook his hand. “I know. Things happened.”

Only now Greef seemed to notice Din was alone.

“Where is Dune?” he scowled. “Don't tell me you two split up?”

He had been an enthusiastic supporter of their partnership on the field and their first few jobs together had been so clean and successful Greef had always encouraged them to keep working side by side. He looked disappointed they hadn't come back together as they had left.

“She got held up outside,” Din reassured him. “The children wanted to see the banthas.”

The use of the plural left Greef quite puzzled. _“Children?”_

“There have been... developments.”

As if on a cue, the _developments_ themselves came through the door: Cara with Koha perched on one hip inside her brand new purple wrap and Nugget balanced in the crook of her arm; her entrance—big smile and cheeky expression—lit up the room like it always did wherever they went.

“What's up, old man?” she greeted as she sauntered across the cantina. Din's hand almost went to his blaster when he noticed how many patrons were following the enticing swing of her hips.

“Look at you,” said Greef emphasising every word. “So good to see you, girl.” He bumped fists with Cara, then looked down at Nugget, who was offering him one of his precious sticks, which Greef politely accepted. “Nice to see you, too, green kid. And who do we have here?” His looked moved to Koha, shyly tucked under her mother's arm. Cara set Nugget down on the nearest table and pulled the wrap folds back to reveal the visible portion of Koha.

“This is the blue kid,” she announced proudly. She pulled Koha up and finally convinced her to show herself. “Uncle Greef, meet the newest addition to the family: Koha, better known as Bluebelle.”

“Blue belle indeed,” said Greef, scrutinising the baby in sheer wonder. Much like Din, he appeared mesmerised by Cara's smug attitude, showing off cute children like she showed off her beloved blasters. They'd gone a long way in this past couple of years.

All it took for Greef to figure out what was going on was a few seconds and a couple of looks exchanged between Din and Cara.

“So you two are official, now?”

The question made, if possible, Cara's smirk even wider. “So it seems.”

“Oh? How official?”

“I don't know,” Cara casually bent her head in Din's direction, “ask my husband.”

“You kids got _married?”_

“So he says,” she shrugged, “but did we really? He made me pronounce stuff in Mando'a—stars know what I said. I might have promised him my first born.” She shot a chuckle Din's way, then turned it back to Greef. “He's a pain in the ass but someone had to do this.”

It was moving to see the apparent joy dawn upon Greef's face.

“I believe congratulations are in order!” he exclaimed, spreading his arms out to pat Din's and Cara's backs. “A toast is required!”

He had Naboo's finest wine fetched with handsome glasses and even a straw for Din. He put so much enthusiasm in popping the bottle that the cork flew straight into a patron's glass and shattered it to pieces. A nod from Greef and the bartender had a free replacement ready for the unamused woman.

The wine smelled delicious, sweet and fruity, when Cara brought the glass to her lips. She barely got to get a taste of it since Koha decided she wanted to know what it was and kept pawing at her sleeve.

“Hands off, missy,” Cara chided playfully. “This one's for the grown ups. Daddy's got your drink.”

Din was reaching out ready to take Koha into his arms before Cara had even started pulling her out of the wrap.

“Give her here.”

He sat down at the table Nugget had already made himself comfortable on and pulled Koha's bottle out of the backpack. It was just water, but it would do to keep her distracted.

Cara finished her wine while watching Koha's button nose bob adorably every time she gulped her water; Nuggie was watching his sister, too, but half of his attention was focused on fitting all his sticks into the empty bottle Greef had left on the table. Din felt many curious looks upon himself—a big, scary Mandalorian feeding a baby so tenderly... It wasn't something you saw every day... unless you happened to be Cara Dune.

“What about this one?” Greef inquired, scratching a tip of Nugget's ears. “Maybe some juice?”

Cara scoffed. “He only drinks the blood of his enemies.”

She gestured Din for the backpack and he promptly fished a snack out of it, which he gave Cara to unwrap.

“Here you are buddy,” she said, placing it into Nugget's waiting hands, “knock yourself out.”

In a few eager bites the snack was already over, so Din provided a second one. Cara gave Nuggie a warning stare before handing it to him: “Last one, okay?”

“Look at the two of you,” Greef commented, pleasantly incredulous, “all grown up and fulfilled. You're a sight for these old, sore eyes.”

Din and Cara shared a complacent look. They did feel pretty satisfied with what they had done with their lives so far.

“So, you guys have two kids, now,” Greef continued, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don't you think it's about time to settle down?”

Cara arched a brow at him. “You got suggestions, boss?”

“Better: I got a job offer.” Greef was playing it cool, but it was evident this was important to him. He cleared his throat and continued, “It'd grant you a very generous steady income, a stable home for the little ones, and plenty of time to spend with them. You could have _more_ little ones,” he added with a knowing chuckle that made both Din and Cara roll their eyes. Din didn't miss the dust of pink surfacing on Cara's cheeks, just like he couldn't ignore the sudden heat he felt around his ears.

Cara sat back on the table, crossed her own arms, crossed her ankles, then let her lips spread into a defiant smirk.

“We're all ears, old man.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's a wrap!
> 
> I can't believe I managed to finish this before Season 2. I'm so hyped and excited, I was afraid I'd be overwhelmed with new ideas after the season began, so here we are, finally the very last chapter. As you might have noticed, the ending leaves a door open for a possible sequel, since so many of you suggested these two should have a whole rainbow of kids. :)
> 
> I had to completely get out of that infamous bad period in order to get back to this, so this is why it took so long: I couldn't have written this insane amount of fluff when I was feeling like crap. It's all over, now, don't worry. I'm fine again and ready to dive into this new season. Let's go!
> 
> P.S. thank you for all your constant support, your comments mean everything to me and help me a lot when I'm feeling down. You guys are priceless, I swear.

**Author's Note:**

> For some reason I feel like something is missing, here, and it's that something that I always find abundantly in Name1's fics, which is real baby awe. She has it in real life, I don't, and it shows. I wish I could fake it so that I could write it better. Also, I made up all that stuf about the post-natal bond between Pantoran newborns and their mothers. Sorry, canon.
> 
> Anyways, here we are. Thanks for reading and for being still here after all the long, painful wait until  
> season 2. We still have a month to go but at least we have a date! (And I read Giancarlo Esposito AKA Moff Gideon said we're getting AT LEAST 4 seasons? Please, let that be true!)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this despite its obvious flaws. Comments are love and pizza bites (I really love pizza, okay?) and I'm starved for both. Chapter 2 coming ASAP, pinky promise!


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